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THE rORN-HFSKING. 



A FARCE. 



BY E. S. WAITPJ. 
Berea, Ohio. 



Copyru/ht hij E. S. Walte, 1<S91 



BEREA, OHIO: 

1891. 



THE CORN-HUSKING 



A FARCE. 

BY EfS. WAITE. 
Berea, Ohio. 



Copyrufht by E. S. Waite, 1891 









BEREA, OHIO. 
1891. 



4^ J) 






rMP92-007589 



THE (ORN-HUSKING. 



A FARCE. 



In'^ K. T. WAITE. 



CHARACTERS. 
Deacon Rising Bustweather. 
Privelege Bustweather, his Wife Quakeress. 
Silence Bustweather, their Daughter. 
Timothy Roundabout, the Lover. 
Zeke Tannerhorn, Hired Man. 
Anxious Hetchel. 
Cousin Sophia Ashpenny. 
Aunt Comfort Hetchel. 
Martha Washington Jefferson, small Col- 
ored Girl, 
Ike Skinner. 
Tophrenia Button. 
Sol Riseup. 
Ducan Hitstrait. 
Anaxasia Fiddlebone. 
Parson Snowunder. 
Jack Olderbum. 
Aunt Polly Ketchum. 
Jerusha Mint. 
Abram and Diana. 
SuKY Hilt. 

HUSKERS. 



2 THE HUSKING-BEE. 

COSTUMES. 

Deacon. Powdered wig, old stN'le coat and ri<;. 

Mrs. B- Quakeress costume, drab, plain dress, white 
cap, spectacles, black silk apron. 

Silence. Old style bride's costume. 

Timothy. Sraart costume for young man of ye olden 
time. 

Zeke. Overalls, old hat and frock. 

Jack Olderbum. Brown short coat and blue pants, 
jean. 

Aunt Polly Ketciium. Gay flowered dress, shoulder 

shawl and gray hair. 

Jf:RUSHA Mint. Red and white brocaded calico dress, 
hair dow^n. 

Abram and Diana. In grotesque negro costumes and 
immense carpet bag. 

SuKY Hilt. AVhite dress, pink sunbonnet or hat. 

Anxious. Gay dress long white muslin tie, long ear- 
rings. 

Cousin Sophia. Sunbonnet, trimmed in red roses, 
black shawl, blue dress, band-boxes and bundles. 

Aunt Comfort. Yellow straw bonnet, trimmed pro- 
fusely, white shawd, green dress. 

Martha. Red dress, yellow apron, red turban. 

Parson. Silk hat, huge shirt front, long black coat. 

HusKERS. Old fashioned costumes of all kinds. 

SITUATIONS. 

R, means right, as the actor faces the audience; L, left; 
C, center. 

SCENE: — Barn. Hay hanginr/ from mon-^ JmUerna luimjinq 
around and candles in different parts of barn,. iScijthes, rake^^ etc. 
Old-fashioned mirror hung for V He on occasion,. Pumpkins and 
milkinr/ stools sitting around. Two or three shoeks of com 
standing {if corn cannot be obtained change to an Apple Bee). 

\_Enter R. Mrs. B. icith pan of doughnuts and kniff- 
ing, humming in a high key, "Bonny Doon, Ye banks 
and braes o' Bonny Doon."] Dearie me, these dough- 
nuts are light enough for any husking bee, (puis pan 
on a shelf,) and surely they are light enough for a wed- 
ding (sits knitting.) A wedding, did I speak aloud? 
If Silence were here she would put her linger on her 



THE HUSK1NC4-BEE. 3 

li}) and say {raises hand to mouth) hush, thee dear 
mother. Silence is something of a quakeress, though 
not as much as I would like. She does not say thee, 
and thou only when she speaks to me; but Silence is a 
good girl, a good girl. I wonder where she can be now, 
up in her room thinking of her lover, Timothy, I'll 
warrant, and he will come, he will come; but Oh! the 
wrath of Rising Bustweather (raises both hands. Goes 
to the door and caUs) daughter! daughter! 

Silence. Yea, mother, I am coming. [Xoise out- 
side. Zeke, makes a racket.) 

MiiS. B. What noise is that^ (Zeke singiny,) What 
melody! (Zeke, Sings) 

Silence, she is the gal for nie, 
She IS the gal I hke to see. 

Zeke (Enters at ii. witli pail a)ul sjjills seeds on the 
■floor.) Pot-hooks and splinters! Every time I gets to 
singing I spills sunthin'. 

Mrs. B. Yea, thou art very clever and handy, 
Zeke, and Silence, thou knowest, admires those quali- 
ties. 

Zeke. Oh! I knows you don't favor my courtin' 
your gal, but the Deacon is anxious enough; he knows 
that I can husk more corn than any other hired man 
he ever had or seed. 

Mrs. B. Anxious Hetchel wert thou talking about? 

Zeke. Oh, drat Anxious Hetchel. I wouldn't 
give an English tu})pence for her hull body. Why 
Silence is 

Mrs. B. There, thou -hast said enough. (Enter 
I.. Silence. Points to jjuinpkin sseds). 

Silence. What! mother, is this the preparation for 
the husking bee? A floor of pumpkin seeds to dance on. 

Mrs. B. Yea, yea, daughter, that is the preparation 
of thine admirer Zeke! 

Silence. Well I'll not pick them u])- -of all the 
loitering, unhandy 

Mrs. B. Tut, tut! Daughter, thou canst polish the 
spoons against the time of supper, wliilst thou are 
wasting words with Zeke, and he can take himself and 
pail away. 



4 THE HUSKING-BEK. 

Zeke. And that I will and you'n.- can pick up tli6 
seeds yourselves. [Ax//. 

Silence, There mother, he has gone and left it 
for us. 

INIks. B. Vrdl I will see to it. He may not be so 
high stepping and independent when Timothy comes. - 

Silence. Thou art right mother, and I wish he 
were here now, I am tired to death of that Zeke Tan- 
nerhorn. He is a blunderer and just good enoujjh for 
Anxious Hetchel. [Exif. 

Deacon B. {Enters hi (/reut hade atul hudle). Have 
you got the ])ui<ipkin pie baked and the doughnuts* 
fried, mother? I kalculate this to be the finest husk in' 

ever had in , and my gal to be the finest gal in 

town. There is many a youth a wanting her. Sy. 
Bumble, Tobias Husun, Ike Coon, and a dozen more, 
All of them is good lads, but none of them is up to 
Zeke Tannerhorn, he can husk more corn and husk it 
better than any two in these ))arts. 

Mrs. B. And has the least brains in his head of 
any one in these parts. [^E.rif. 

Deacon {railing after her). What is that you say 
Privelege? There is no keej)iug these women quiet if 
they are quakers. (Goe>< to door and Ivdhofi) Privelege! 
Silence, light the candles, the buskers are coming. 
(^Deacon bbider-i around). Women have so much 
primping to do (Jooh in gl((x>i). Why, I am not so very 
old. I can't half see (ruxhe.^ to door and dtoids in 
a}i(jer) Privelege Bustweather, are you coming here? 

' [Enter Mr.^. B. 

Mrs. B. Yea, yea, Deacon, I am coming (die llf//if,-< 
the candle'i.) 

Deacon. You are enough to drive me wild. 

Mr8. B. Oh! the wrath of Rising Bustweather. 

Deacon. Where is Silence? What is she doing? 
She looks well enough without stopping so long to dress. 

Mrs. B. Well .she is very particular to-nigiit, she 
wants to look exceedingly well. 

Deacon. I am glad she is coming to her senses at 
last, ever since Timothy Roundabout went away she 



THE HUS^ING-BEE. 5 

lias been as contrary as a nuile, and as sharp as a ground 
liojr^'s quills, over that miserable Tim, he is well named 
— Roundabout, hope he will never show his face in 
these parts agaiii. But hark the buskers are coming. 
{Slngiiir/ in the distance, the dracon looks out.) Well, I 
declare, there are loadjs of them, they will till the old 
^'^^■•i- [E.vit R. 

^ Mr8. B. (Lookiiu/ out.) Well, if here doesn't come 
Cousin Bopbia, and what a comfort she is any way. 

Cousin Sophia. (Enters with />und bo.re.^ and bun- 
dies.) Yes I have got here after a while. The wagon 
broke down and Jeremiah had to go back, and I have 
been a blessed two hours in coming from the corners, 
with these band boxes. Where can I put them where 
they will be safe and out of the way of the noisy 
buskers. I have in that bundle catmint and sage mixed, 
that is for the Deacon when he has his bad spells. 
Mrs. B. Oh how thoughtful thou art. 
Cousin Sophia. And here is a package of boneset, 
yours wasn't strong enough when I was here before.' 
You will find this is good for most everything and here is 
some pennyroyal, and smart weed, and here is a bundle 
of roots and arbs, warranted to cure all the ills that 
flesh is heir to. Father used to say, give me a dose of 
smart weed tea wlien he was under the weatjier, and it 
would straighten him right out quicker than all the 

doctors in could, and I have brouglit you some 

home made yeast, I heard you had got to usi'ng some- 
thing else— something you'got from Boston, is that so? 
Now tell me before I take my bonnet off, you know I 
have no i)atience with these new fangled things of no 
kind. 

Mrs. B. Thee doesn't think I would use store yeast 
cousin Sophia. Come let us go up to the house and 
put away thy things. Silence will want to see thee. 

Cousin Sophia. Yes I have bi'ought her a great 
deal of good advice. These girls need it. [E.vit cousin 
Sophia and Mrs. B. 

{Ifuskcrs come onto .^t<i'jc n<nr, .</iiffln// and (-((rn/luf/ iiilUimj 
>^hol>^, and are welcoined by the Deaom, Mr a. B,' S'Uence and 
tumiii Sophia, irho come ou from .^ide r. ILisker.s .^it on M>r, 
piimpl-ins ami .^(,,(ds^ and commence hitskinrj in hl'jl, qlec ) ' ' 



(i THK HUSKING-iJEK. 

ToPHRENiA Button. Now you Sol Risen p, I want 
you to understand that I did not come to this husking 
Lee to sit side of you all the time. You slick tighter 
to me than a grey-back to an old soldier. 

Sol. Why Freny, you know you said I Height. 
(laughter.) 

Freny. Stop your noise! You tell everything you 
know and more too. 

DucAN HiTSTRAiT. AVouldu't I like to have my gal 
tell me that. He, he, he. 

Sol. You are a brag, aint you though. Bet }'ou 
wouldn't dare to kiss her in the dark, let alone a ioie 
folks. 

DucAN HiTSTRATT. AVell I'll show you. (Cvo.^sefi 
fioor, Jd>tf<es Auaxasta FiikUebone; <jef--< slap; all laugh 
and point to Anaxasia, crying shame! ^hame! ) 

Aunt Polly Ketchum. Jerusha, can't you speak 
us a piece. 

Jerusha. I don't know, may be I can. (comes for- 
ward and .speaks ''^ Money MnshJ^ by B. F. Taylor, from 
''The Old Barn'' At clo^e applaiise.) 

Deacon. Zeke, have you found any red ears yet? 
Zeke. Yes, here's one. (Jumpx up and kis-<es tJir 
first girl necy him.) 

Aunt Polly. Now, Ike Skinner, you have been to 
singing school all winter to Setville and can't you sing 
the "Old Oaken Bucket," and we'll all join in the 
chorus. {Ike shigx and all join chorux.) 

(Enter l. Ahram and Diana, runaway slaves.) 

Mrs. B. Well, Deacon, we have sonie strar)gers 
here. Doesn't thee see them? 

Deacon. Wall, I declare, Privelege whar in crea- 
tion did they hail from. (Pushes his specks up and 
stands in wonder at them. All stare amid, si/c/i excla- 
mations ax ''den tell!''' "my mkes!" ''hunky-dory!" etc.) 

Zeke. Did ye come from old Ken tuck', uncle? 

Parson. Canyon give us your names, sister and 
brother? 

Abram. Our names am just Abram and Diana. 
We is poor chilun from Virginia run'<laway. 



THE HUSIvING-BEE. 7 



Aunt Polly. Aint you hungry poor things. 

Diana. Yah. dat we be honeys, can't you gib us a 
doughnut. (3Irs. B. h'ings ijctn of doughnuts and they 
help the7nselves. Ahram finally takes the pan and 
empties the contents into a carpet sacJc.) 

Diana. Missus, we smelled some pu mpkin pie as we 
comed along. 

Deacon. Getiheni somej Privelege. We ought to 
help these poor creatures. You are going to Ohio I 
s'pose. 

Abram. Yes sah, we is. Henven bless you Qo 
Mrs. B., who brings in two pumpkin jjles. Ahram takes 
one and Diana takes the other and they begin to eat them.) 

Silence. {Creeps up to Mr^. B. and says.) Mother, 
they will eat up everything. 

Mrs. B. No, no, child, I guess not. 

Abram. AVell, mother we must be goin'. (Ahram 
and Diana go out R. eating pie.) 

Deacon. Parson, we can't help such people any to 
much, can we. 

Parson. No sir, we can't. 

Aunt Polly. Deacon, nobody is husking. 

Deacon. That's so, (all resume husking) but then 
you know. Aunt Polly, we don't have such company 
every day. 

Ali,. Did you ever see the like of them. (T/ie 
young folks run to the door at R. toivatch them go down 
the road.) 

Mrs. B. Suky, the Deacon would like to hear you 
sing "Husking Corn" (by E. E. Todd.) (Suky sings; 
all join cJiorus. Several huskers find red ears of corn 
and claim privelege of kisses.) 

Jack Olderbum. Well, I wish somebody would 
sing "It* I was as young as I used to be." I heard a* 
feller sing that when I was down to York, and I tell you 
what if he didn't sing nobody ever did. 

Deacon B. I used to sing that myself, Jack. 

All. Sing it! Sing it! 

Deacon. Seems to me cousin Sophia used to sing 
pretty well. 



O THE HUSKlNCi-BEr,. 

Aunt Polly. Oh yes; Sophia wont you please :<ing 
for us. 

Cousin Sophia. Why certainly I will if the Deacon 
will sing that piece you wanted him to. 

All. Yes you will Deacon, woi^t you. 

Deacon. Wall I'll think about it. 

Cousin Sophia. Well, you know that 1 in no singer, 
but I'll do the best that I can. But see here; Sol 
Kiseup hadn't we better sing ''Ruben and Rachel," for 
them. 

Sol. Well, may be we kin, we can try anyhow, 
(They sing '^Rnben and RacheV — duet by Harry Birch; 
at close applause . Anxious passes apples around, young 
folks throw skins over shoulder to form initials. Anax- 
asia throws one and she and Silence exclaim T. R.) 

Silence. Timothy Roundabout! 

[^Horn 6/oms outside. 

All. (Shout.) Whose come now. 

Zeke. Why, its the stage Most likely bringing 
some company to Deacon Bustweather. 

Silence. {To 3Ir8. B.) He doesn't know who its 
going to bring. (Enter Timothy Roundabout and 
MartJia Washington Jefferson. He bo\d\y wa\ks v,p to 
Silence and kisses her, and shakes hands with Mrs. B. 
amid many exclamations of astonishment from the ivhole 
party.) 

Deacon. (Walks up to Timothy in great anger and 
says) AVhat does this mean? 

Mrs. B. It is a wedding to-night and Timothy has 
come to see thy daughter married. 

Deacon. A wedding! and who is the groom? It; 
will be Zeke Tannerhorn and no other, or my name is 
not Rising Bustweather. 

Mrs. B. Oh! the wrath of Rising Bustweather 
(raising both hands.) 

Deacon. If the heavens fall Silence Bustweather 
shall never marry that scapegoat (turning to Timothy.) 
Why are you here sir, at this gathering of my friends 
and kin? You, a wild hoodlum that you are; what is 
the meaning of all this (rushes wildly around and pushes 



THE HUSKING-BEE. 9 

Timothy away from SUence). 

Mrs. B. Oh! the wrath of Risking Bustweather. 

Deacon. Slie shall never marry hiui. Zeke Tan- 
iierhorn, where are you? 

Zeke. Here I are, Deacon. Siiall I take him by 
the neck? {Silence ru(<lies between them). 

Silence. I will marry Timothy, lather. I love him 
better than the whole world; and as for Zeke, I will 
nevei- marry him (stamps foot). Why I had rather go 
to a nunnery than to marry him. 

(Timothy takes oat a liamtful of gold, shows it to 
Deacon and Zeke). 

Timothy. 1 have plent\^ njore Deacon. I have 
not been idle while I have been away. I have earned 
the right to claim your daughter, and have now come 
to take my bride, and we are now ready for your bless- 
ing and the parson, 

Zeke. Not so long as I can wield a club. 

TiiMOTHY (Imighiny). Why, Zeke, see here; you 
take this (hands him money), go down to (name a local 
tailar), and get a fine suit of clothes; come back and 
Anxious Hetchel will marry you. 

Anxious. Will I? 

Timothy. And we will have a double wedding. 

Zeke. By the great horned spoons! I never 
knowed what it was to be horned with a silver spoon in 
your mouth afore; it means a twenty dollar gold piece 
in your hand more likely. I'd ruther have it that way 
an3^ how. Silence is purty enuff, and if you want her 
bad enough to pike all the way up from Boston you can 
have her for all me. I guess she would be a leetle too 
nice for me anv how, and she might want to spend this 
money and Anxious would keep it. 

Anxious. That I would, 

Zeke (crying). 1 ken swaller my feelin's I guess, 
seein's that Silence, at the last minit, has concluded to 
marry you. \_Exlt Zeke crying. 

Silence. Timothy, you know I never liad any 
thouiijht of niai'rving Zeke. 

Timothy. I know you never imd, my dear (P«^.s 
arm about Silence). 



10 THE HtSKlNG-lit:^:. 

Deacon. What, you marry my daughter; you can- 
not compare with Zeke. He is industrious, obedient, 
and owns as much as a pig and a sheep, 

Silence. Yes, he is a regular sheep's head himself. 

Deacon. Silence is your name but it is only in 
name. You are always ready to say a word against 
Zeke; but he, mark my word, is good enough for yon, 
or any girl that dances. 

Anxious. Yes, that is so. 

Deacon. Now here is Anxious Hetchell, as good a 
girl as need be, who is willing at-any time to become 
Mrs. Tannerhorn. 

Anxious. Am I? 

Deacon. And y(ju, Timothy Roundabout, I've 
knowed you ever since you were born, and up to the 
time you went away three years ago, you was a harum 
scarum, good-for-nothing, and did not have as much as 
an old jack-knife and now you come l^ack all dressed, 
up in store clothes, and bring this black gal with you 
and claim to be rich. What have you to say for your- 
self, ha? 

Timothy. Well, I've just tliis much lo say, that you 
hadn't ought to object to our marriage without good 
reason. Since I've been gone I have not forgotten 
Silence, nor has she forgotten me, and this 'Miusking' 
was planned by ub and your wdfe knew all about it. 

Deacon. I don't doubt that. 

Timothy. And I am in partnership with my uncle 
James, and you all know him and if you don't believe 
what I say, just find out from him. And as Silence is 
of age to-day, why, she can choose for herself, and i*s 
f(U' the little darky gal I brought her from a cruel 
master and I intend that she will be a nice little help 
to Silence when we are settled in our new home, and 
now, Martha Washmgton Jefferson, can't you dance us 
a jig and sing us a song; try it. {Martha !<uigx unci 
daiic'f^f "■Nellie Bin'" ^!J '^- ^'- J^'o-^f^r.) [Zeke enters r. 

Timothy. Hello, Zeke, you have got back have 
you; you look fine. Where is Anxious? 

Zeke, I don't know as she will have me now. 



TiiE HUSKIXU-BEK. H 

Aunt Comfort. No, indeed she wont. Now see 
here, I've got a little something to say in this matter to 
this company, my niece Silence Bnstweather is all well 
enongh in her way, but my daughter Anxious is not 
going to be made fun of Iw her or anybody else. Maybe 
you think just because Tim Roundabout has turned out 

to be somebody that there aint anybody else in but 

him, but I know better. I tliink she can find somebody. 

Anxious. Yes, mother, I think I can. 1 propose 
to marry somebody who admires me, I am not as anx- 
ious as you think, sir. (twn.^ to Zeke) to marry you, 
although folks have made you look better than C(>ra!non. 
I suppose you think (sjjeaJcx to Ituxken^) I will have 
to be an old maid if I don't marry Zeke. 

Jack Olderbum. (Comes to An.rlovs stcJe.) No 
you wont, I intend to marry you myself and it will suit 
me first rate to have the cermony take place now. 

All. Why Jack Olderbum! 

HusKERS. (Shout) Two weddings; Aunt Privelege 
let's' have two weddings; Deacon, let's have two wed- 
dings. What say you? (Deacon hem^ and haivs.) 

Mrs. B. Let's have two weddings, my dear Deacon. 

Deacon. I — I —I don't know my dear, but you 
women always get what you start for. I suppose I will 
have to give in. 

All, (SJwiit). Where's tlie parson! (Parmn comes 
to front, Deacon andivife, Timothy and Silence, Anxioux 
and Jack Olderbum, Cou^'in Sophia and Aunt Comfort 
form in semi circle for the marriage cermony. Huskers 
xtand hack of them. Parson readx follotcing from hooV.) 

Parson. (To first couple) You will please to join 
your right hands. Wiiat is your name? (To Timothy.) 

Tim. Timothy Roundabout. 

Parson. Do you ])romise to supply this woman with 
drygoods and liair pins as long as she shall exist? 
Tim. 1 do. 

Parson. Will you promise to be silent if she should 
get angry, and will you promise to get in plenty of kind- 
ling wood so tiiat she jnay get up early and l)uild the 
fire for you and make the breakfast? 



12 THE HUSKING-BEE. 

Tim. I do. 

Parson. AVill you ])roiiiise to be kind to liei at 
house-cleaning time, and will you always ask her con- 
sent before joining the Masons, the I. O. O. F's, the 
Knighls of Pythias, the S. of V's, the Blue Bottle 
Greens, the Sons of iStay-at-Hoine Clubs, etc ? 

Timothy. I do. 

Parson. Will you promise never to stay out after 
10 o'clock at Apj)Ie Bees, Kissing Bees, Barn Raisio^^s, 
and will you promise n(jt to drink too much at pig- 
killing and sheep-washing time? 

Timothy. I do. 

Parson. Well and good. ( To Silence,) Now what 
is your naire? 

Silence. Silence Bust weather. 

Parson. Silence, you have undei'taken a wonderful 
journey and you will do well to answer me a few ques- 
tions. In the first place are you bound to mairy this 
man instead of Zeke? 

Silence. Yes sir, I am. 

Parson. Very good then, now pay attention to this 
solemn catalogue of questions. You see how smartly 
Timothy has ans^vered up. Now do you promise to 
love, honor, and obey this man as long as y(»u shall 
both be on earth? 

Silence. ] do. 

Parson. Do you promise to keep house on the stay- 
at-home plan and never Uy spend any time in gossiping? 

Silence. I do. 

Parson. Do you agree to see that he (h)es not with 
your consent fall in love with any other women? 

Silence. I do. 

Parson. Then 1 })ron()uuce you man and woman, 
providing that nobody jbjects to these persons being 
talked to by me in this way. { Deacoii her/ins fo mij 
something but U calmed hi/ J/r.s. B.). 

Parson (to next couple). You may join your right 
hands (they join left Jiaml^, then one rir/ht (Did the other 
left). 



The HtJSKr^'(^BK^:. jg 

1 M^*^^' -^Iz -^^""^ patience, Parson, they are only 
children {t/ini Parson jo hi .« their right hanch himself.). 

Paksox {to Anxioux). What is youi name? 

xVnxious. Anxious Hetchel, if you please, sir. 

Parson Well, do you promise to take this man and 
try to love him all the time? 

Anxiolts. Yes, indeed I will. 

Parson. Do you promise Jo ask him for only a 
sliilling a month for pin-money unless you want more? 

Anxious. I do. 

Parson. Do you promise to always remember the 
preacher in charge" with a roll of butter every time 
you churn unless it is })oor butter? 
Anxious. I will. 

Parson. Do you promise to give him only one cur- 
tain lecture a week and that sparingly? 
Anxious. I do. 

Parson. Do you promise never to vote until you 
have a chance? . ' 

Anxious. I do. 

Parson {to Jack). What is your name? 

Jack. Jack Olderbum. 

Parson. Will you take this woman in all kinds of 
weather to love and serve her, and will you reverence 
and lear her? 

Jack. Yes — fear her. 

Parson. Do you promise to give her all she wishes 
to eat? 

Jack. Yes sir, if she don't eat too much. 
Parson. Do you promise to buy her at least one 
calico dress after she is your wife? 
Jack. I guess so. 

Parson. Will you always be at home after supper 
and spend no evenings out without her willing consent? 
Jack. Have I got to promise that? 
Parson. Yes sir. 
Jack. Well, I'll promise if I must. 



14 THE nUSKIN(4-l]i:E. 

Pakson. Eveiybody at this corn husking has wit- 
nessed this ceremony and 1 now pronounce this couple 
to be man and woman. 

[Then follows congratulations. Mrs. B, Aunt Com- 
fort and Martha pass ])ans of dous^hnuts and pumpkin 
pies; then after this Zeke shouts, "Wlio will dance 
Money Musk with me — where is the fiddler." Choose 
partners and dance Money Musk, and at close all come 
to front, bridal party in center, and all sinir ''Auld 
Lang Syne" or any old song, for a good night.] 

FINIS. 



A drill at the close is a good finis. A captain who 
understands the Amazon drill, or any other army 
drill, and twenty or thirty young ladies in red, white 
and blue costumes. 



FINALE. 



^^ 



\ 



LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 




015 793 136 2 ^ 



